Bought ForThe Greek's Bed

And he wasn’t fussy about what he was prepared to do to get his own way…

Her mind sheered away. Memory was dangerous, very dangerous. Much safer was Theo being angry with her. His anger might be a vicious onslaught of savage fury, or it might be the cold, contained, implacable power of a very rich man, but both of those were easier to endure than—

No. She cut her mind off again.

Focus! Focus on what you want here—your money. That’s all you’re here for. Nothing else! Nothing else at all.

But if that were true, why—dear God—did her eyes keep wanting to smooth over that tall, lean body standing so short a distance away from her? To rest on that planed, ludicrously compelling face and just gaze and gaze, like a hungry animal long deprived of food…?

He was replying to her, and she forced herself to listen.

‘It’s a substantial amount of money. You are not used to being in possession of such sums. Therefore you may be the target of unscrupulous operators who wish to part you from it.’ His voice was smooth, the lick of anger gone completely now from the visible surface.

But Vicky remained wary—she knew she had every reason to be.

‘I’m putting it in the bank, that’s all. I want to spend some of it on a house, the rest stays in the bank.’

It was an evasive answer, and she knew it. True in some sense, but implying, falsely, that she wanted to buy a house, not do one up, and that there would be a lot left over—when there would probably be none at all. But she didn’t owe Theo Theakis the truth. She didn’t owe him anything.

She held his gaze, resolutely keeping hers steady.

‘Very prudent,’ he murmured, and again Vicky got the feeling that there were currents running deep beneath that smooth surface.

But what did she care about those, either? She just cared about getting her money. That was all.

‘Very well—I’ll release the money.’

The words fell into the space between them—and that was much, much more than the few metres that separated them. For a second she stood still, not believing she could have heard right. Then her eyes lit—she could not stop them.

‘But there will, of course, need to be conditions.’

His voice was smooth still. So smooth.

The light in her eyes flashed into anger.

‘You have absolutely no right to—’

His hand came up abruptly. ‘What I have,’ he enunciated, ‘is something you want, and if you want it then you accept my conditions.’

She was the insubordinate minion again. Her chin came up in defiance.

‘And they are?’ she demanded, eyebrows rising with the same cool deliberation she’d used before.

His eyes rested on her a moment. She could not read them—could not read the smooth surface of his expression. But suddenly, quite suddenly, out of nowhere, the barest fraction before he spoke, acid pooled in her stomach.

‘They’re very simple,’ he said. ‘You’ll return to Greece with me, and to my bed.’

The acid leached from Vicky’s stomach and into her veins, draining down into every limb.

‘You cannot mean that,’ she breathed. It seemed to take all the breath she had left in her lungs to do so. Her eyes had widened like a rabbit’s, seeing a predator step in front of it.

Something flickered in the back of his eyes, and she felt her lungs crush yet more.

‘It’s exactly what I mean. If you want the money, you’ll comply.’ His voice was unperturbed.

‘It’s outrageous!’

‘So is adultery.’ His voice was cold, as cold as steel.